


Failure

by Pilux



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-22
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-09-26 06:07:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9870797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pilux/pseuds/Pilux
Summary: Archmage Khadgar receives news from the Broken Shore.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for blog, (hence the strange format,) originally wrote it shortly after the Legion expansion pack released. So by all means, it would take place shortly after the in-game Broken Shore event.

The only sound in the dimly lit room was the fire crackling and popping rhythmically. Khadgar stood back to the dancing flames, letters in hand describing the details of the attack on the Broken Shore. If anyone ever entered the room, he never noticed. Khadgar was stoic, frozen in place as if he were nothing more than his statue that resided outside of Stormwind. 

The dancing fire was the only movement and life in the room. But it too began to die when its hunger went neglected. As the room darkened, there was a small, sharp intake of air from Khadgar. His gripped crinkled the paper. Another sharp inhale through his nose. A heavy sigh escaped his lips as his hands finally began to shake.

He lamented the loss of Tirion; regretting that he had not done more during the Lich King’s terror on Azeroth.  
His heart ached for the Horde; Vol’jin was the leader they had so desperately needed for so long. Sylvanas would be an excellent replacement, but his mind could not focus on that right now.

Varian was dead.

His lips pursed together as he forced himself to remain composed.   
He squinted his eyes, blinking rapidly as he told himself to not react.  
He tried not to think about it.

But he just….could not.

Khadgar’s mind filled with memories of Varian as a boy. Who had always been quiet when Khadgar was around. They hadn’t seen each other much, but he’d never forget Varian’s face upon hearing of the death of his father, King Llane. Would Anduin have the same face?   
Anduin.  
Named after Lothar. 

He touched the parchment to his forehead, gritting his teeth.

All were dead. Because of the Legion. Because Sargeras had picked Azeroth as a target and was determined to destroy it. 

No, not the Legion. 

They were dead because of his mistakes.  
Because he was never strong enough, never clever enough to figure out what was going on before it was too late.

With Varian dead was there….was there anyone left?

Medivh had long since vanished, Anduin was dead…Llane, Varian…..he had no idea where Garona was. The people he had known the longest, the ones he cared the most about.   
All gone.

Maiev’s lecture from days before began to ring in his ears as Khadgar felt his heart break for the first time in years. His chest burned not with rage at the legion, but with mournful regret and a self-hate that he never thought would be possible to feel.

His sobs were soft and quick, hot tears staining the paper he hid behind. The Archmage sunk to his knees, no longer able to stand.

It was almost as if the curse had washed away, taking away all the years off of him but kept the memories intact. He felt as strong and as useful as he was when a boy. A nosey, stupid reject from Dalaran that had been sent to Medivh in the hopes that he’d be disposed of.   
“But Medivh saw you as his appren-”  
No.   
No.  
He pushed aside any positive thoughts. He put all his focus on every mistake, every misstep, every failed meeting. 

Every battle lost, every lost soldier.

Every lost friend.

In this moment as he cried, he wasn’t an Archmage or the Leader of the Kirin Tor. He wasn’t the Young Trust or any sort of leader and hero.

He was just a boy.


End file.
